Wolf of Baker Street
by ShadowFreak88
Summary: A new twist on Sherlock, when a new threat has arrived in London can Sherlock save the people or fall victim himself to the dark beast that hunts them in flesh and mind.
1. Chapter 1

Something was missing. Missing, missing; that word has never really crossed his mind unless he knew something was truly missing. But this time, all the facts were in front of him but yet they didn't fit, none of it did. He and John had been investigating a strange string of attacks, too large to be a dog but each attack resembled dog attacks but did far too much damage. It had to be a person but how could they inflict so much damage to the body with their teeth and so large as well?

"Sherlock," John watched as the detective paced back and forth mumbling to himself as he always did but this was different. "Sherlock," he said again but the man still paced, mulling over things over and over again.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock snapped from his daze to look over at John, like nothing had happened at all. "What," he asked watching his college stare at him in disbelief and a mix of shock, horror. Horror over what, why was he afraid like he just saw something worse than war?

"You were growling like some wild dog, are you alright?"

"Yes, yes I'm fine. I wasn't growling I was thinking out loud humans can't growl. Something is missing John, but we have all the facts in front of us and yet something still is missing, but what?"

"So you're just going to completely overlook the fact that you were just growling like a wild animal, I thought there was an actual dog in here when I came up the stairs. Truthfully, Sherlock, you've gotten far stranger since we took this case."

"Oh calm down John I'm fine," was all Sherlock said before continuing his pacing across the room before picking up his violin.

John knew now there was no chance in getting anything else out of him, he shook his head and just stood in the door way a moment. "What do you want to eat, I can call for carry way or we can go out," John said trying to break the silence and Sherlock set his violin down then, staring off a moment longer.

"I'll get my coat, Chinese sounds good don't you think," he said, John heard the distant sound in his voice his mind not really there and it was obvious.

John nodded, Sherlock putting his coat on and the two left. The cool night air welcomed them as they walked, half way to the restaurant they both changed their mind and got sandwiches off a night cart. Sitting in a park near by the water, they could see the stars there and Sherlock stared up at the moonless sky. "You sure you're alright?" John asked, Sherlock could hear the worry in his voice and knew that it was true. Was he really that off of his normal self that John was worried?

"Hmm, yes I'm…fine…"

"Sherlock…"

Sherlock held up his hand to stop him, he sighed and looked down at the still wrapped sandwich in his hand. "I know you don't really believe the word 'fine', nothing really ever comes from it that's good…I've been having nightmares since we started this case and I usually don't even dream unless it's pertaining to the case. But these nightmares have persisted since the start," he said.

"I know I've heard you a few times from my room yelling in your sleep, maybe we should just stop this case."

"No, if I can solve it then people will stop dying in such grotesque ways but something is still missing none of it makes any sense."

John was the only one to see this more human side of Sherlock, the side with feelings and emotions that could admit when something was wrong. The two sat in silence as they finished eating, John not pressing the matter anymore but looked away from the stars when Sherlock's phone buzzed a few times. "It's Lestrade, there's been another attack this one is still alive," Sherlock said and both men got up, quickly running to the street and hailing a taxi. Telling the driver where to go it was only a few minutes before they reached the scene, it was oddly close to their flat.

"How bad are they," John asked as they got out.

"We can't move him; if we do he'll die faster. The attack happened about ten minutes ago, the person across the street called it in said there was a black mass like a giant dog in the alley then she saw the boy fall out of the alley covered in blood." Lestrade answered, both stopped at the word boy.

Sherlock was the first threw and knelt down next to the teen, no older than 17 and he checked the wounds closely with John. "Look at me, come on focus for me okay we're going to catch this person but we need your help." Sherlock said, keeping the young man's head up to look at them, noticing a golden tint around the boy's irises. John worked on stopping the bleeding more in hopes they could move the boy to a hospital where he would have a chance.

"It was so fast…sounded like some beast…a monster…it bit my shoulder and drug me down…it was so sharp…" the boy got out shaking now going into shock.

"Stay with me, come on now stay with me what did it look like?" Sherlock told him trying to keep him awake, grabbing the sides of the boy's head.

It happened, fast the gold appeared in the eyes and Sherlock suddenly yanked his wrist back as it was bitten before the boy finally lost the battle with blood loss. Sherlock stumbled back a bit before falling down, holding his wrist tightly as John rushed over to him. "Sherlock," he said, asking Lestrade for his belt to stop the bleeding in Sherlock's wrist before it got worse. Sherlock felt himself growing lightheaded, his wrist was on fire and it felt like it was spreading up his arm before his eyes finally started to cloud. He passed out, his only way of escaping the pain.


	2. Chapter 2

~_The earth was alive, the wind was warm and the ground seemed to pulse beneath his feet as he ran across the open country side. He had never felt so alive, with each deep breath he felt his heart beat faster and stronger. Lights soon faded behind him, shoes left in the mud he needed to feel the earth breathe as his coat and shirt soon fell behind him. He needed to feel the wind hold him, his eyes looked to the sky above and each star seemed to shine brighter than he had ever known but still he did not stop. He could suddenly run faster, further than he ever had before and jump higher than ever as he cleared a fence with ease and just kept going. He was free; he felt like something took hold of him and lifted him from the ground but soon the air grew cold._

_ He was no longer alone, he stopped as the sky darkened and the stars went out above him. A sound moved around him, moving quickly in a circle around him he followed it as his heart pounded in his ears. "Sounds like drums…far off in the distance calling you toward them like a long forgotten call," a gravelly voice said, Sherlock spun to face the sound and followed each movement it made around him._

_ "Who are you?" He finally asked, finding his voice._

_ "The darkness that fills your mind, the chill that travels up your spine in the dead of the night and the teeth that will shred away everything that has made you human in this life. But you never were truly human were you, Sherlock Holmes?"_

_ Sherlock listened to each word, each sound as the shadow moved around him as if the last remaining light was focused on Sherlock alone. Heavy, 200 pounds but balanced, easily 7 feet tall if it stood up right clearly walking on four legs instead of two. Claws several inches long, large jaws and keen sense of smell, sight and hearing, canine in nature with human attributes, all in all a wolf or werewolf. Sherlock didn't believe his own mind, werewolves were only beasts of legends and he knew it._

_ "How do you know me?"_

_ "I know more than that, I will strike again when you least expect it Sherlock and you will not stop me until I want you too."_

_ Something in the voice changed, they were facing him now and Sherlock tensed shifting one foot back slightly to balance himself for an impact. "I will win Sherlock, I always win." The voice growled the air felt stale like he was trapped in a room with no windows._

_ "Not this time," Sherlock said suddenly feeling a pain his fingertips; he glanced down in time to see sleek black claws emerge from his fingertips._

_ He looked up as the hulking shadow lunged forward; large fangs gleamed in the darkness before it slammed into Sherlock. ~_

Sherlock gasped, sitting up quickly from his spot on his bad sweat running down his chest and face as he panted, trying to catch his breath. It was only a dream, just a very vivid dream he had dreams like that before but one as vivid as that. He took a few slow breaths, wiping the sweat from his face when he heard a knock at his door. "It's open," he said leaning over and clicking his lamp on but stopped a moment when he saw the bandaged on his wrist slightly stained in pink from old blood. He really did get bit that night, but a human couldn't bite that deeply with the blood loss that boy had suffered.

He looked up as the door opened, John looking in a moment before walking in. "You were shouting in your sleep again, came to make sure you didn't throw yourself out of bed again like you did at the hospital last night." John said before sitting down on the bed and motioning for Sherlock's injured wrist. Sherlock complied without hesitation as his wrists was un-bandaged, cleaned and redressed within a few minutes.

"There's going to be another attack soon," Sherlock suddenly said making John look up.

"How do you know that?"

Sherlock shook his head, "I don't know, something tells me it's going to be soon and we need to be ready. Contact Lestrade and tell him to be ready for anything."

John watched Sherlock closely, seeing the stress that was still over him as the bigger man laid back down against his pillows. John got up then, "Call me if you need me." He then left, Sherlock rolling back over to try and go back to sleep still feeling weak from the dream but he found himself restless not more than a few minutes later. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling before finally shouting for John, silence greeted him the first time before he called out again and this time he heard John coming to his room. John wasn't used to seeing Sherlock like this, he went into the room then seeing the lamp was still on it would've been off if he had slept at all.

"I don't want to be alone…" Sherlock said, he never asked that of John before and he was afraid he had finally gone too far since he and John started living together.

He looked down as if ashamed he asked before rolling and putting his back to John then, he stared at the far wall before he felt the bed shift. The light turned out before he felt John's arms encircle his waist and Sherlock smiled. He felt relaxed for the first time since they started this case and he was finally able to sleep without nightmares for the first time in a long while.

"I hate being right all the time sometimes," Sherlock sighed as he tightened his gloves as he and John looked over another scene.

It happened the same way as the last 5 murders, each one seemed to be worse than one before it. "Sherlock, there are cameras pointing down here think we could get something from those," John said pointing out the four nearest cameras on the corners. Sherlock looked up at each one, calculating times in his head as he looked from each one.

"Yes, two of them would've faced this way right as the attack happened the others might give us a shot as the suspect left the scene it might give us clues to what they'll do next."

Sherlock then turned back to the scene, "Lestrade I need your computer."

"You know Sherlock, a please would be nice now and then." Lestrade said handing over the computer bag.

"Yes, yes now shut up please," Sherlock said as he turned on the computer, it was quick work to access the cameras with a little help from Mycroft. Not that his brother would ever know at least not for a while. He and John watched the screen from each camera backwards from where they were now to just before the attack. Hitting play they watched it through before John pointed out the shadowed figure and Sherlock shook his head. "Impossible," he whispered, tapping a few keys he clicked the frame and brought up a large picture before clearing it up.

Lestrade leaned over Sherlock's shoulder a bit to look. "But that's a wolf…how can a wolf be in the center of London unnoticed?" Lestrade asked as Sherlock clicked more frames and that same wolf seemed to shift and change shape into a human as it left the alley.

"It changed…how can it change into a person like that?" John said but it was clear on their faces they got their answer the moment John spoke.

Lestrade shook his head, "A werewolf? You have to be kidding, those don't exist it's just a story this is some hoax."

Sherlock then turned the computer to show Lestrade, "You are looking for a male, roughly 6 foot 4 shaggy brown hair most likely pale blue to grey eyes mid to late 30's. Check homeless areas judging by tattered clothes he's either homeless or yes Lestrade, he really is a werewolf."

Sherlock pulled his coat closed as he and John started to walk away then. "So what, cased closed then?" Lestrade shouted after them.

"No, the case is still open and the game is still on."


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of a violin filled the flat, the song was sweet and in perfect taste for Christmas. The flat was warmed by the fire going in the fire place; everything had been quiet for the last week since they saw the security camera footage. Something was coming they both could feel it but for now Sherlock was off in his own world as he played his violin. "That was wonderful Sherlock; I see the wrist is doing better." John said setting down their cup of tea as he set his violin down.

"Yes, it's healed better than I thought it would," Sherlock smiled as he picked up the cup, turning to face his window to watch the snow fall.

John put his arms around Sherlock's waist then, resting his head against the bigger man's back listening to his heart beating. Sherlock smiled more as he sipped his tea just enjoying the moment of silence in the flat and the city. "Oh I'm sorry boys I should've knocked…" Mrs. Hudson said from the door way apologizing for walking in on them like that. John pulled away then and Sherlock looked down, setting his cup down.

"It is fine Mrs. Hudson we're used to it by now, what do you need," Sherlock said as he heard his phone buzz but ignored it for now.

"Came to give you boys your gifts before I leave town tomorrow morning to visit an old friend, that way I don't forget," She said handing them each a box.

"Thank you we'll be sure to open them Christmas morning," John said with a smile.

"Oh please open them now I want to know if you like them," she said, watching them both.

Sherlock watched John open his first; taking out a new phone case, the recent medical book John had been talking about as well. "I love them Mrs. Hudson thank you for these," John said giving her a hug and she smiled, patting his back before both looked to Sherlock now.

Sherlock turned the box over a few times in his hands but this time he decided not to be his normal self and just opened it. He stopped when he saw what lay inside the box; he picked up the leather gloves running his hands over the soft black leather before feeling the inside was fur, thin but warm most likely mink or rabbit shaved thin. "Mrs. Hudson…" Sherlock was actually in awe that she could afford such nice gloves for him.

"Sherlock, don't think I haven't seen you remove those old, worn gloves you freeze each time you go out. No need to thank me," she told him and Sherlock smiled then before he hugged her.

"Thank you anyways," he said and she smiled, patting his back lightly before she left them alone to enjoy their night.

Sherlock smiled as he held the gloves in his hands, feeling the soft leather he set them inside his jacket pocket to make sure he didn't lose them. He looked over as his phone buzzed again, this time picking it up seeing it was Mycroft he ignored it and set the phone back down. He wanted some peace while he had the chance, the case they were on was eerily quiet for the time being but Sherlock never stopped working on it.

With his homeless network at his fingertips he had several photos on his wall of possible suspects all fitting the description he had gotten from the security footage. Some were homeless and others were not but it was hard to tell, he was waiting to see what their next move would be. But it had been quiet for the most part, even his nightmares had ceased so everything had gone still for now at least. But for now he and John just enjoyed the quiet time, they prepared their flat for the Christmas party. The next day brought heavy snow but everyone still made it, Lestrade was the first to arrive then Molly arrived as well with her boyfriend. Even though Mrs. Hudson couldn't be there they still enjoyed the night exchanging gifts through the night as Sherlock played his violin for everyone. He seemed in a better mood than most had seen him, his phone lay silent on the table but a txt popped up from Mycroft.

Sherlock ignored it, glancing at it seeing that it said if Sherlock wouldn't go there Mycroft would come to him. And sure as the txt said Mycroft arrived, carrying a few boxes in his arms as he entered. "Mycroft, pleasant surprise," Sherlock said, John taking the boxes from him and Sherlock handed him a drink with a snarky smile.

"You would've known I was coming if you ever answered your phone," Mycroft said.

"Oh I know I saw them just didn't want to answer, gifts are strange for you. You never give gifts," Sherlock said as he sat down in his chair and Mycroft rolled his eyes a bit.

"I'm allowed it is Christmas after all."

It was clear no one believed him but no one wanted to say anything but Sherlock smiled anyways, just wanting to enjoy the night. It was peaceful and by around midnight everyone bid their goodnights, Mycroft was the last one there. "Any luck on the case, little brother?" Mycroft asked leaning on his umbrella. Sherlock didn't speak; he plucked the strings of his violin a few times before looking over at John. John nodded to him like it was okay to talk about it.

"No luck so far, he's evaded us since the beginning now we are just waiting to see if he'll strike again and we'll catch him in the act." Sherlock said and said nothing else.

Mycroft sighed knowing he would get nothing else from his little brother; John sensed the tension then and offered to walk Mycroft down to his car. Sherlock listened as they walked down the stairs watching as they walked onto the sidewalk, watching them talk now he just kept to himself as he always did.

"Watch him closely with this case John, I sense something far different with Sherlock this case will get the better of him if he's not careful." Mycroft said as he checked his phone.

"He's always careful Mycroft, but safe trip and Merry Christmas." John said, smiling and he went back inside and out of the cold.

Mycroft watched John leave before he got into the backseat of the car, dialing a number in his phone he waited a moment. "No luck, it doesn't seem the beast has gotten into Sherlock's mind but I don't want to keep my hopes up. Little brother is digging deeper than he needs to into this one," Mycroft said, the person on the other side spoke quickly before an alarm blared over the phone and they hung up.

Sherlock may be getting his wish sooner than he hoped but Mycroft hoped that his little brother would stop digging so deep. It was only a matter of time before it would get him into trouble that not even Mycroft could save him from.


	4. Chapter 4

"Come on John," Sherlock shouted, both men were short of breath as they ran down the concrete stairs to under the bridge. John panted heavily, hearing sirens in the distance trying to get closer to them as they chased down the one they saw on the cameras. They had been in the spot of another attack, it was almost New Year's Eve and Sherlock ran as fast as his legs could carry him after the man. John wasn't far behind him, both stopped at the end of the stairs looking around at the tunnels and Sherlock looked through the tunnels maps in his head. "Both tunnels meet up in the center, strait way both ways. You go left I'll go right," Sherlock said quickly. Before John could protest Sherlock was already heading down the tunnel. John caught his breath as he rushed texted Lestrade and then went down the other tunnel; he held his pistol tightly in one hand as he ran down the tunnel. He could hear Sherlock running down the other maybe a few yards ahead knowing he would hit the center first. John slowed when he heard another set of footsteps, these ones sounded behind him but when he turned the tunnel was empty asides the street lights glowing in the distance. He turned around and kept going, picking up his pace now. Something was wrong, something felt wrong and he felt Sherlock was in trouble as he heard the footsteps behind him again only getting faster. John's pace picked up until he was fully running down the tunnel. "John!" Sherlock's yell echoed out through the tunnel and John felt his stomach knot, his blood ran cold. "John, help me!" Sherlock's yell came again and John felt his feet move faster as snarls were now heard alongside the sounds of pain from Sherlock. John entered the center of the area, seeing what looked like a giant wolf over Sherlock but it stood up like a man did and its evil red eyes turned towards John. The beast yelped out when Sherlock landed a knife in the creatures' leg, it snarled and snapped its jaws on Sherlock's arm making the detective cry out in pain before he was thrown like a rag doll against the tunnel wall. "Sherlock," John yelled, firing several rounds at the beast as it charged John before turning sharply down the tunnel and it was gone. "Sherlock," John was quickly over to the injured detective, pulling him over onto his back. John took off his shirt, tearing it into strips to tie off wounds to stop blood flow. "Sherlock look at me, stay with me okay Lestrade will be here soon it'll be okay just stay with me." John told him, holding the bigger man's head gently in his hands as tears threatened his eyes. He could barely tell it was Sherlock anymore, blood everywhere on his face. It looked like he had been mauled by a bear; he would've thought that if he had not seen the hulking beast for himself. The word from before now sat in his mind, werewolf. Sherlock tried to breathe, his good hand gripped John's hand tightly as he tried to stay awake. Everything seemed to slow and blur now, voices sounded far away as if he was miles from them. His vision blurred giving him only dark outlines, shadows as he barely felt anything now asides his own heart struggling to keep blood pumping and his lungs struggling to take in enough air. His brain ticked through all the possible injuries as the voices seemed to grow more distant than before but he still struggled to hang on. Broken ribs on right side, possible punctured lung, dislocated left shoulder and severe bite wound to left forearm no broken bones. Several large gashes across stomach, all major arteries intact several smaller torn or severed completely, bleeding to death would take hour to two hours if not slowed. But he knew John had been there when he was attacked, John would save him he was sure of it. Darkness slowly claimed Sherlock then, his eyes finally closing and he let the darkness claim him. *** "I will haunt you Sherlock Holmes…I will always haunt you." The hulking creature gave a chilling laugh before swiping its claws down and Sherlock suddenly jolted. The sound of machines beeping told him that the creature had only been in his dreams, he was still alive. His eyes blinked slowly a few times, light coming past the blurred vision as he tried to look around but even that hurt. "John…" his voice was raspy, his mouth dry and his body ached. "John went to get some coffee, he'll be back in a moment," Lestrade said, Sherlock was surprised to find Lestrade beside him. The detective groaned as he lay there, "did you catch him?" Lestrade shook his head, "No, we lost track of him after the blood trail dried up it's been pretty quiet the last week now." A week, he had been out for a week he had been weaker than he thought. "Sherlock, you're awake," John's voice came past the ringing in his ears and Sherlock smiled as he felt his hand taken by the doctor. Lestrade excused himself then leaving them alone. "Thank you by the way," Sherlock said as he felt John place a small ice chip in his mouth to get some water in him. "For what," John asked. "For saving me, I never would've made it to the hospital if you hadn't saved me back in the tunnel." John smiled a bit, keeping a hold of Sherlock's hand as he sat down beside the bed. He would be in the hospital for several more days before he was finally released back home to the flat. Sherlock, with John's help slowly got up the stairs to their flat, his ribs and arm hurt more than anything the gashes were healing the best. "Oh Sherlock you're home," Mrs. Hudson said as she came out of her room, seeing him home again was a relief for the aging land lady. "Help me get him up to the flat please," John said. "Oh I'm fine you two, don't worry so much," Sherlock said but his struggling up the stairs was enough to tell them otherwise. They helped him up the stairs and into the flat now, he sighed a bit as he was sat down in his chair and he groaned a bit. "I'll make you some tea Sherlock, help you relax," Mrs. Hudson said going to make tea for them as John checked the sling on Sherlock's arm. "I also think you should keep your hair slicked back like that Sherlock, it suits you," he heard the elderly land lady said from his kitchen and he looked at John. It was only because he didn't shower much asides sponge baths at the hospital but John smiled a bit. "She's got a point though," John said chuckling a bit, before letting Sherlock rest now as John sat over in his own chair. Sherlock rested his head back a bit smiling a bit; he was relaxed being home where he could think in peace and not trying to drown out the annoying hum of all the hospital machines. It was good to be home. 


	5. Chapter 5

John stuck close to him for the remainder of the week, making sure his arm healed up right and the muscles weren't going lame in the shoulder. He made Sherlock do daily exercises to keep the strength in his muscles, to help them heal better. Even well after the stitches were removed, the sling gone and he was healed Sherlock continued with the strength training John left him building up more muscle tone. Sherlock lifted the weight a few times from his side strait out to help strength his injured shoulder, his eyes staring down at two computers. He switched arms then typing something rather quickly into one of the computers as the other ran through the facts of the case. He was researching legends of werewolves or anything close to it. Scotland had a Good Samaritan werewolf that left food for poor families in the winter but he doubted such a creature would kill innocent people. Native American tribes had werewolves, a man that was a brother to the wolf and could wear their skin when the night settled on the land. The same tribes also had the legend of the wendigo, a beast that feasted on the flesh of man and in turn became a raging creature that would hunt and kill man like a wild, corrupted wolf. Each country was different but all had one thing in common, their legends went out across thousands of years. His eyes narrowed when he caught a new sight in his search, he sat down then. "Werewolves within…" he whispered, clicking the link his eyes scanned the page. He stopped, highlighting a section then. "Common form of turning a victim is through dreams, the longer the beast visit in the dreams the more you take on of the wolf but never fully turned until the creature delivers a full bite to the victim. Those who are bitten without ever seeing the creature in their dreams will never fully turn, merely taking on a few small traits. Those who are bitten with the creature appearing in dreams or nightmares will more than likely turn on the first full or new moon after the new year…" Sherlock quickly got up then, pulling a calendar down off the wall he looked over the month. They were about to go into February, the full moon had been just before he was attacked and he slowly traced down the month and circled the new moon, two days from now. He looked down at the pale scar on his forearm, in a panic and rage he threw the calendar away from him it toppling down the stairs out of the flat. What was he supposed to do now? If it was real then Sherlock was going to turn into some beast and he had no way of stopping it. And it scared him, he would never admit it but it scared him beyond anything he's ever known. *** "New case John, we're off to Scotland," Sherlock said waking John from his nap on the couch. "We're not doing the one we've been on?" John asked, yesterday it was all about that case but now Sherlock was waking him with a new one. "We're still on that one but it's been so quiet might as well take another, keep us on our toes." John couldn't argue with him there, but he wondered why they were going all the way up to Scotland for a case. It was rare for Sherlock to go outside of London for a case let alone over the border to the north. Sherlock explained that a rabbit had gone missing from a home of a little girl, who claimed the rabbit suddenly glowed in the dark before it vanished with no visible break in. But he explained the real case was a young man who saw his father killed by some creature, known as the Beast of Dartmore. But John could sense something else was wrong, something had been lurking in Sherlock's mind ever since he came back from the hospital. Upon arriving in the town, Sherlock tucked his hands into his pocket as he looked around. "I'll ask around a bit if you want to get us a room John," Sherlock said, John watched him a moment but nodded then. He patted Sherlock's arm before going into the Inn there, he talked to the man at the bar before getting a room then. John carried their bags into the room before going back down to meet Sherlock outside; he stopped a moment watching as Sherlock stood observing everyone around him. Something was different about him, John could see it by the way he stood and moved and even looked now. He noticed how Sherlock had an odd grace about him, like he glided over the ground as he walked like he never stepped on the ground itself much how a predator moved when it wandered. John just watched him, there really was something different about Sherlock and after they visited the local base around there they returned to the hotel for the night. Sherlock sat up however, John slept on the bed behind him as Sherlock stared out the window. The moon was almost gone, it was just a sliver of silver in the sky and he was terrified of what could possibly happen when the moon was gone. "Sherlock…are you alright?" John asked as he sat up then, rubbing his eyes a bit surprised that Sherlock was still up when he hadn't slept the night before either. "Will you still love me John, even if I turned into a beast…" Sherlock suddenly said. "Sherlock I will always love you, why would you ask that?" "Something is about to happen and I won't be able to stop it." 


End file.
